


Like Autumn Leaves We Dance

by Hekate1308



Category: Endeavour (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Fae!Morse, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-18
Updated: 2018-04-18
Packaged: 2019-04-24 13:56:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14356896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hekate1308/pseuds/Hekate1308
Summary: There was no line of creatures in front of the town hall, nor had he expected to be. The Registration was voluntary after all; and there were good reasons still to stay hidden and pretend to be human, normal like the rest.But Morse? Morse thought of his mother, about the snide comments she’d had to bear in their little town, about Gwen’s open contempt, about Joyce’s love when he’d secretly made flowers bloom in winter for her, and he went in.Fae!Morse story, case fic.





	Like Autumn Leaves We Dance

**Then**

As usual, he was the last to leave, giving him all the opportunity he needed to put his plan into action. Doing his magic at the station wasn’t ideal, but he would have to. Healing someone, it meant interfering with nature, and there was a price to pay. Many practitioners used plants to redirect the flow of the power in order to get away unharmed, but Morse couldn’t do that; not when he remembered his mother and how much she had loved her garden.

So he would have to deal with the repercussions himself. And if they were severe, he wouldn’t be able to get back from his flat and return DI Thursday’s pipe, the one he kept in his office, and that would lead to questions he wasn’t comfortable enough to answer. Not until the Government passed the Bill Of Creature Rights, at least. Maybe that made him a coward, but he had grown used to hiding what he was.

He probably couldn’t heal him completely. But even just a small improvement would be worth it.

The pipe was well-worn, which was good. The longer someone had owned an item, the stronger they were linked to it, allowing for a better magic flow.

Morse took a deep breath and closed his eyes, remembering the old rituals his mother had taught him “just in case”.

At first, he didn’t think the symptoms were too bad. Certainly, he felt dizzy and shaken, but he still made it home.

By the next morning, he had developed flu-like symptoms and was forced to call in sick, even though he wanted nothing more than to know how DI Thursday was.

But on the third day, he got some news regardless, as he, coughing and wheezing, opened the door to find Mrs. Thursday. “Morse! I heard you were ill. I brought you some soup.”

“That really wasn’t necessary – ” he began only to be interrupted by a sneeze.

To his humiliation, she hurried him back to bed to tuck him in; but soon, all of that was forgotten as she told him with shining eyes, “Fred coughed up the rest of the bullet last night. The doctors say it is a miracle. He’ll completely recover now.”

It made the week he spent in bed more than worth it, as he had felt it would.

**Now**

_As of last night, the Bill Of Creature Rights has officially passed into law. Starting today, supernatural creatures can register themselves as such and therefore be protected against discrimination due to their nature. Now, we will hear the Prime Minister speak out on this historic occasion –_

Morse shut off the radio. He didn’t need to hear what the Prime Minister had to say.

He had something better to do.

There was no line of creatures in front of the town hall, nor had he expected to be. The Registration was voluntary after all; and there were good reasons still to stay hidden and pretend to be human, normal like the rest.

But Morse? Morse thought of his mother, about the snide comments she’d had to bear in their little town, about Gwen’s open contempt, about Joyce’s love when he’d secretly made flowers bloom in winter for her, and he went in.

As was to be expected, the Registry Office was the smallest, and the clerk sitting in it looked like he was only doing this because he had been told to, and promised that he’d be promoted away soon enough. He was reading a newspaper with a bored expression on his face.

Morse cleared his throat.

The man looked up.

“Excuse me, I’d like to register –“

He immediately stood up and carefully took a few steps back.

Morse sighed.

* * *

DI Thursday was spending the morning at court, so after he was done, he then took the bus to work.

He would have lied if he’d said he wasn’t nervous as he knocked on Superintendent Bright’s door; the man had certainly never liked him, and Morse had no idea what he thought of creatures like him; but what had to be done had to be done.

“Constable Morse. How may I help you?”

He swallowed and then handed him the document the Office had given him. “Sir, I’ve come to alert you to the change of my status… I’m officially registered as half-Fae.”

* * *

Bright was surprisingly… matter-of-fact about it all. What exactly did him being half-Fae entail? Any special problems this might cause? Anything they’d be required to change in the station?

He could have done with a more airier and light space to put his desk, but he didn’t mention it.

“No, sir, thank you. Although I will admit I am not too fond of the morgue…”

“Of course. Fae, lovers of light and life” Bright said, quoting an old nursery rhyme about creatures like Morse. “Oh well, you’ve been struggling through alright until now, so I assume that won’t be a problem?”

He shook his head.

“Splendid. Well, at least the Chief Constable will be overjoyed that we already have a Fae in our ranks. It will look good in the public eye. That said, I will talk to him – it might look better if we had our… creature” he looked at Morse; he nodded – people had called others like him far worse things – “take on a position with more responsibilities. DI Thursday should be glad to have you as his permanent bagman at any rate.”

Morse was not very enthusiastic about finally getting the position due to something so arbitrary as his parents, but said nothing.

After all, talking to the superintendent had gone better than he had imagined.

* * *

Word travelled fast as always, and by mid-morning, Thursday still being at court, the whole station knew. Just like back in his home town, Morse ignored the whispers and incredulous stares.

It was one of the reasons Gwen had hated taking him in. The child of a Fae, the child of the woman who had “bewitched” her first husband. Never mind that Fae couldn’t bewitch anyone to fall in love with them.

He sighed and concentrated on his paperwork.

Maybe he shouldn’t have been surprised that Strange was the first one to approach him. If he knew one thing about Jim Strange, it was that he always did his homework.

And so, when he cleared his throat and Morse raised his head to find him holding a notebook, he managed not to smile. Barely.

“Morse, can I speak to you for a moment?”

He nodded.

What followed was Strange awkwardly trying to question him about “things he had to know” as if having a half-Fae colleague was like looking after a new pet whose species one had never encountered before, but Morse knew he meant well.

Plus, it could become useful to have someone around who knew that he shouldn’t be left alone with more than one dead body for too long lest it drain his energy when he needed it most.

* * *

WPC Trewlove stole over to his desk sometime before lunch break. “Hello, Constable.”

He nodded and waited.

She bit her lip. After a moment, she laughed. “Oh dear, this is awkward, isn’t it? It’s… somehow, it doesn’t change anything, but at the same time, it’s weird not to address it, right?”

He laughed too. Somehow, she always seemed to know what to say. “I guess so.”

She nodded. “Just hang in there, alright? And if anyone says something, tell me. I’ll sort them out.”

With that, she left him in a much better mood than she’d found him.

* * *

Jakes seemed to be avoiding him, but that was hardly a new development. In fact, Morse wouldn’t have been surprised if it turned out he respected him even less because of his new status.

He’d done the right thing, he knew that. He thought of his mother, always so careful to hide her powers, never let her magic shine through, the fear of what the people, who were already wary of having a Fae as a neighbour, would think keeping her quiet.

Things had to change.

DI Thursday arrived early afternoon, looking somewhat haggard. “Bastard got two years.”

He’d gotten lucky then, seeing as he was a well-known serial burglar.

“I’m sorry to hear it, sir” Morse replied carefully. He was about to mention his Registration, but Bright beat him to it by approaching the DI for an update.

They disappeared into his office and Morse went back to typing his report.

* * *

“DI Thursday, I am sure you will be glad to hear that DC Morse will be your official bagman for quite some time to come.”

“I am happy to hear it, sir, but may I ask for the reason for this… change of heart?”

Bright raised an eyebrow. “You know perfectly well I have been of the opinion that Morse is ready for quite some time now, if it hadn’t been for that unfortunate incident –“

“Where I got shot” he said flatly. “I understand.”

And he did. The trouble was, Morse didn’t, not when it came to politics. Always with his head through the nearest wall, Morse was.

“Yes. Well, now his registration solved that problem. The Chief Constable is delighted a Fae has joined the ranks.”

Thursday’s blood ran cold.

“Morse is a fairy!?” he spluttered.

Bright frowned. “As a matter of fact, they prefer not to be called such” he said. “A meeting with creature representatives brought it to my knowledge that such derogatory terms as “fairy” and “the little people” are not to be used. The Fae want to be addressed as such – even though I can hardly see Morse bearing anyone ill while it is still so commonly used. We should set an example, don’t you think?”

“Yes, sir” he pressed out through gritted teeth while he thought of having let a Fae into his house, talk to his wife, his children –

The first wave of pure fury passed quickly, however, and he remembered that, Fae or not, this was still Morse.

He wouldn’t act like those creatures he’d seen in the war. He would never.

And he was now officially Thursday’s bagman. That’s what he’d always wanted, wasn’t it?

He swallowed. He didn’t quite recall saying goodbye to Bright, but he must have done it out of habit.

* * *

There was something off about DI Thursday when they emerged again, but at first, Morse couldn’t put his finger on it.

“Sir?” he asked politely after Bright had left. Thursday was standing in front of his desk, apparently lost in thought. “Is something the matter?”

“No” he said roughly, “I’m fine.”

Morse’s heart sank when he realized he wasn’t looking at him, but over his shoulder.

Of all the people he’d imagined would have a problem with his new status, DI Thursday hadn’t been one of them. He swallowed before repeating, “Sir?”

Thursday snapped out of it and shook his head, still not looking at him. “Like I said, I’m fine.”

He returned to his office and slammed the door behind himself.

Morse winced.

* * *

Later that afternoon, Strange asked a question and he raised his head to answer only to have his colleague take a step back.

He only then realized that, because he was no longer keeping a firm hold on his powers, his eyes were glowing.

Small wonder Strange was surprised (at least Morse liked to think so. The other possibility – him being afraid – was not exactly something he wanted to contemplate).

“I – ah – sorry, matey. May take a while to get used to that.”

“It’s quite alright.”

“What else can you do?” he asked, suddenly looking eager, almost like a little boy. “My mum used to tell me stories about fai- about the Fae people when I was a kid, and she said they could do all sorts of stuff –“

There was something about his open, downright innocent curiosity that was endearing rather than insulting. Morse took a deep breath. “I am very attuned to nature. I can usually make plants grow better, or save them from death. Sometimes I can also help people out… not resurrect them or do anything drastic, but… you know…”

He was a bit underselling his own powers, as he well knew.

He’d never really tried healing anyone since nothing he had done had saved his mother, all those years ago, and her own magic hadn’t prevented her death.

But when DI Thursday had been shot, he’d broken his own rules not to use his magic.

Once he had returned to work, after the Bixby case, and realized just how ill the bullet still made DI Thursday, he’d acted.

Still, he didn’t feel comfortable sharing this with anyone yet, especially since DI Thursday seemed to have a problem with him being half-Fae. What was he going to do when he learned Morse had used his powers on him without asking for permission?

Strange thanked him profusely for what he had told him however, and Morse had the suspicion that his mother would soon get a letter gushing about the powers of the Fae.

Thursday barely left his office for the rest of the day, and when he did, he mostly spoke to Strange and Jakes, barely glancing in his direction. Morse half-feared that he wouldn’t allow him to drive him home at night, but he did.

Even though he stayed silent, so he made no attempt at conversation himself.

When they arrived at the house, he said, “Until tomorrow, then” at least, and Morse almost allowed himself to hope when DI Thursday dropped his wallet and they both reached for it at the same time.

When Morse accidentally touched his hand, Thursday drew back, revulsion in his eyes.

Morse turned on his record of Bach as loud as he dared that night.

* * *

Win always knew when something was troubling her husband. She had known back in London with Mickey Carter, even though he’d not dared tell her then, and she knew now.

And so, after dinner, the children in their rooms and Fred having smoking in the living room, she poured them both a drink and waited for him to speak.

When he finally did, he told her something she would never have expected.

“Morse registered as a half-fairy.”

She frowned, recalling a TV program about the new law. “I think they don’t like it when you call them fairies”.

“Don’t bloody care what they like to call themselves, I care that he never told me.”

“But Fred” she said, “You know how people are.”

She herself had never had anything against supernatural creatures; they were just a fact of life, and she had never met many anyway. It was actually kind of interesting to think that she’d already cooked for a fai- for one of the Fae.

In the next moment, she chastised herself; that poor boy was still what he had always been, not an interesting object in a museum. Surely neither she nor Fred would treat him any differently –

“I would never have assumed he’s one of them” Fred said, and the emphasis he pit on the word surprised her. “I saw what they can be like. In the war.”

He’d never talked much of the war. “But surely there were soldiers with powers on our side too?”

“Yes, but not nearly as much” he sneered.

“Morse isn’t a soldier though, and he is most certainly British. The Fae have a long history of living here, you know, maybe even longer than humans” she replied, remembering something else from the program.

Fred hummed and began to talk of something else, but Win couldn’t help but feel slightly apprehensive as she thought of the good work relationship they had built.

* * *

The next morning when Morse rang the bell, she herself went to open it and was careful not to show any difference in her behaviour to the poor boy. He seemed rather grateful.

“Morse” Fred snapped when he found them making small talk.

He winced. “Sir.”

“No reason you have to walk up here. Just wait in the car.”

Win frowned. Certainly he wasn’t telling Morse to stay away from them and their house –

“Of course, sir. Mrs. Thursday”. And Morse left, just like that, to wait in the car, as Fred had ordered.

As she made him his sandwich, she couldn’t help but remember all the other times he’d waited in their hallway. Why was everything different now? Just because he was one of the Fae?

“Here. Come home safely” she told her husband, kissing him, and yet she still felt troubled as she watched him walk slowly to the car, where Morse was dutifully ready to drive off.

* * *

Their drive was silent once more. Morse tried not to let it trouble him.

Due to the warm weather, Thursday had rolled down the window on his side; and he even with the sounds of the road, he could hear a magpue sing loud and clearly.

He smiled.

Only to have his good mood evaporate when he saw the glance Thursday bestowed on him; it contained something almost like disgust and he only had to glance in the rear view mirror to see that his eyes were glowing again to understand why.

“The magpie” he said somewhat weakly. “Singing. It’s nice.”

Thursday didn’t even answer.

* * *

This was going to be even more difficult than Thursday had imagined.

If only Morse hadn’t been a fairy, like the one they had surprised torturing prisoners of war.

His eyes had glowed in that exact way, and while Thursday knew that Morse had simply been enjoying the bird singing, it didn’t help trying to keep them apart.

God, the screams of those men…

He took a deep breath. Morse had done what he had asked him to, hadn’t he? He’d left his home and waited at the car. And now he’d smiled because of a bird.

Surely he could slowly come to terms with his bagman’s… identity. Surely.

* * *

The call came soon after they had arrived at the station, Thursday storming into his office without a word.

A few minutes later, Strange brought him coffee he hadn’t asked for. Morse thanked him with a nod. He’d just finished it when they got informed they had a case.

Morse tensed as soon as he heard that there was a lot of blood loss. At least there seemed only to be one victim.

As it turned out, the blood loss was both worse and better than he could have anticipated.

Morse felt it as soon as he got out of the car – Thursday had elected to drive with Strange, but jakes had provided the same tense silence the DI would have given him anyway.

Something dark had been here, something dark and powerful and evil –

“Morse? Morse!”

He looked down and realized Jakes had grabbed his wrist.

It was the first time anyone had touched him since his registration.

Jakes let his hand drop. “Your eyes…”

“I felt… something” he said carefully, because certainly, certainly he couldn’t have… it wasn’t possible, he was only half of Fae blood.

“Alright”. Jakes somewhat awkwardly patted his shoulder. “Let’s go.”

Only when he saw the doctor did Morse become aware that he hadn’t seen him since his status changed.

He should have known that he would simply greet him as always. “Morse.”

“Doctor.”

“You don’t have to worry this time, the blood is – well, gone.”

Morse thought of what he had felt when he had got out of the car and a shiver ran down his spine.

“Although” DeBryn suddenly said, standing up, “Is it quite safe for you to be here?”

“I…” for a second he didn’t understand, then he felt touched. “Don’t worry. There are four beating, living hearts around me and we’re out in the open, on the grass.”

DeBRyn nodded. “Good.”

“What can you tell us, Doctor?” Thursday interrupted them. DeBryn raised an unimpressed eyebrow but answered smoothly.

“As far as I can tell, she has lost a lot of blood. And then there’s that.” He moved her head and Morse’s breath caught in his throat.

Two small puncture wounds could clearly be seen on her neck.

“A vampire” he breathed.

“Vampires?” Jakes asked. “I thought those were just horror stories.”

“And they go through great length to make sure most people do” Morse replied. “I only ever met a few, and that was when they were passing through town and stopping at our house for a drink. Mother always had a well-stocked fridge for any creature’s needs.”

Jakes nodded. “Alright, but – they don’t normally attack people like that then, right? Would be hard to overlook.”

“This one must not care” Morse said quietly. And that could mean a something. Something he desperately didn’t want to contemplate, not when the law had just passed…

* * *

A vampire. First his constable turned out to be a fairy, and now a vampire.

How was Thursday supposed to work like this?

“Are you sure?” he asked flatly.

“No. We’ll have to wait for the autopsy, I am afraid” said DeBryn. “I’ll do some research. I did take some courses on creatures, but there were precious few available.”

“That’s hardly surprising” Morse said quietly and Thursday thought, somewhat uncharitably, that if those… things wanted medical help they should first stop sucking humans dry.

“Good. Well then. The man who found her?”

“Mr. Manchin, sir” Constable Trewlove reported.

“Fine. Morse, get his statement.”

“If you wouldn’t mind, sir” Trewlove said, “I already began –“

“Morse.”

He nodded, not looking at him, and went to the witness. To Thursday surprise, Jakes followed him after bestowing a look on him that he would almost have called contemptuous.

“Do you think it happened here, Doctor?” Trewlove asked, moving away from Thursday and towards the body, looking strangely relieved as she did so.

“If it was a vampire, yes. He would have… sucked her blood right here.”

“I know next to nothing about vampires. Why didn’t she scream?”

“Because of the snare vampires use on their victims. Again, this of course only applies if the murderer was a vampire.”

* * *

As Thursday had ordered him, Morse spoke with the witness. His eyes must have started to flow for suddenly the man who had been rather polite sneered and said, “Ah. A fairy.”

“Indeed, sir. Now if you could tell me…”

“Don’t think much of it, myself. This sudden “let’s give them rights and pretend they’re people” stuff. I mean, there has to be a difference, humans don’t have magic after all –“

“Sir –“ Morse tried his best to interrupt the rant that was sure to follow, but he would have been helpless if Jakes hadn’t decided to intervene.

“Excuse me, sir, there are still some questions concerning the time you found the body –“ he began, stepping up to them and squeezing Morse’s shoulder for just a second, but he got the message.

He quickly moved away, just far enough that he could still hear Jakes’ questions and the man’s answers, but still at a reasonable distance so no one would be made uncomfortable.

Except for DI Thursday, since he sadly happened to step right in his way.

“Morse” he hissed, “What are you doing?”

“The witness wasn’t… feeling comfortable with me around, sir” he said quickly, “So Sergeant Jakes offered to take over.”

His eyes narrowed. “I see.”

And what before last week would have been considered a strange quirk on the witness’ part is now quite obviously another failure of Morse’s in Thursday’s eyes, and he swallowed and looked away.

He never saw the glance Jakes threw him, nor did he understand the true meaning of him stepping in to deal with the witness until later.

* * *

DeBryn had promised to be especially fast with the autopsy, and so it was no surprise that Thursday ordered him to check out his progress in the afternoon.

Morse did a quick count in his head and realized there were currently five bodies in the morgue, but that at this time of the day, only Max was likely to be there. He swallowed.

Strange jumped up, apparently having come to the same conclusion. “Sir, I can –“

“I need you here. Morse can go.”

 _He doesn’t know_ , he told himself,  _he_   _can’t know. DI Thursday wouldn’t do something like this_.

He got up.

When he reached Jakes’ table, his colleague stood as well, but Thursday immediately barked, “Jakes, I need you here as well.”

The look he shot Morse was… apologetic? He wasn’t sure.

And neither did he see Trewlove bite her lip and reach for the telephone.

* * *

Morse expected to feel faint, dizzy and slightly ill for the rest of the day after being around five corpses at once, but he wouldn’t. He actually found the doctor waiting in front of the morgue instead of in his office there, as usual.

“Trewlove called, reminded me that at the moment, we have five corpses in there” he explained, “Not exactly your cup of tea, hm? Figured I’d wait here to prevent a repeat from your first autopsy.”

“Thank you, Doctor” he replied honestly.

“Don’t mention it. Here’s the report.” He hesitated, then continued, “I am afraid everything points to a vampire being responsible. If he really used his snare –“

“Or her snare” Morse corrected automatically.

“Of course, or her snare – then this would explain the lack of defensive wounds – and almost all her blood is gone.” He paused. “Do you know if –“

“As far as I am aware” Morse answered carefully, “it’s supposed to feel good.”

Then again, the few vampires his mother had allowed him to meet found their food through other means, like animal’s blood.

“A small consolation for her family.”

He nodded, then turned to leave.

“Morse?” Max called out.

He turned around.

“For what it’s worth, I’m certain DI Thursday will eventually… realize that his prejudices are unfounded.”

Morse wasn’t so sure.

People usually didn’t learn, in his experience. “Thank you, Doctor” he said again instead of voicing that thought.

The smile Max gave him was slightly wistful.

* * *

When he came back, Strange was making tea for all of them.

When he brought Morse’s, he realized he’d added tea to his.

 _When it comes to me being left alone with a corpse under any circumstance,_ he’d told him,  _afterwards the best thing is honey. It restores me._

And Strange had it all written down in his notebook.

He gave him a grateful smile, even though Thursday all but snatched the file from his hands and returned to his office.

* * *

A few minutes later, Bright appeared, looking troubled. “I spoke to the Chief Constable to alert him to the… situation. He’s very concerned how this will appear in the public eye, with all the attention the bill has gotten lately…”

“Of course he is” Thursday said, resignedly.

“Exactly. And that’s why we have a plan” Bright announced and Morse’s heart sank.

“I do believe you are acquainted quite well with Miss Frazil from the Oxford Mail, aren’t you, Constable?”

“Yes” he replied, although he had no idea how she would react to his registration. Many people, he thought ruefully, glancing at DI Thursday, had opinions you’d never have imagined.

“Excellent. So we have decided it would be best if she broke the news, in a carefully worded article, and a statement from yourself, to prove that we have a creature on the case and are not prejudiced in any direction.”

Morse knew he had no choice.

* * *

He had last seen Miss Frazil a few weeks ago, when he had paid her a drink as a thank you for helping on another case; and he liked to think they were friends.

But he wasn’t very keen to test his conviction under these circumstances.  

He was shown in her office and resigned himself to wait when he saw the wilted flower in a small pot at the window. She probably had forgotten to water it while he chased down a lead.

He smiled; making flowers bloom was easy enough and didn’t nearly use as much power as healing humans. He’d probably feel a bit cold during the rest of the day, but that he was ready to deal with.

And so he gently touched the petals and watched them come back to life.

“Well” Dorothea Frazil said behind his back, “I have to admit I am not as surprised as I would have thought I’d be.”

He turned around, feeling rather guilty, but she didn’t look upset. “What is it?” she asked in her matter-of-fact way. “Fae? Sprite? Wraith?”

“Half-Fae. On my mother’s side.”

She nodded. “Now, what do you need help with?”

“How do you know I do?”

“Why else would you be here?”

It was kindly said, however, and she brushed past him on her way to her desk as usual, showing no signs of fear or contempt.

He released a breath he hadn’t known he was holding and told her what had happened.

When he was done, she sat very still. “A vampire attack. In Oxford.”

He nodded.

A moment later, she sprang into action. “The Chief Constable is right, of course; the police has to be the main source of information, and we have to be careful. Luckily, our readers already know you, that should help.”

“If they like me” he told her.

“Pah, of course they do.”

He wasn’t so sure. “And what about my heritage?”

“The Fae aren’t nearly as frowned upon as some others – vampires, for example, as long as people believe they exist, that is – and so we – wait, just to be clear, your family never kidnapped children and exchanged them for others of your kind, right?”

“No.”

“Had to make sure.”

“Of course.”

She looked at the plant he’d just saved and smiled. “Thank you for this, Morse.”

“It was my pleasure.”

And it was well worth the spoonful of honey he’d have to take that evening.

“Let’s get to work, then. How much do we know…”

She didn’t treat him any different.

It was a wonderful feeling.

* * *

When he returned from the interview, he knew this still hadn’t been all.

There were others who needed to be informed.

And so, upon returning, he went to Bright’s office and told him, “The Council must be informed of what happened.”

Morse had only been in the Council Building once before – when he had moved to Oxford, in order to let them know his address change. At the time, he had been wondering why they would decide to stay in Oxford rather than London, but now that he no longer kept his powers under control at all times, he could feel the history, could feel nature itself nurturing the city, and he no longer had to.

Bright looked at him and nodded. “It was to be expected. It will be best if you and DI Thursday go, since you are the men on the case.”

Morse wished he could have been able to do this alone, but of course not.

Thursday grimaced as he told him of their visit to the Council; and only Strange jumping up and immediately acting as if he’d always been supposed to accompany them saved them from another silent drive.

“The Council was the one who proposed the bill in the first place, wasn’t it? Read about it in the papers.”

God bless Jim Strange.

“Yes. The Council have been looking after the creatures of the UK for centuries –“

“Don’t seem to be doing such a good job” Thursday muttered.

“They’re not the police, sir” Strange answered. “I’m sure Morse meant administrative stuff.”

“I did” he confirmed quietly, Thursday’s obvious hostility making him more uncomfortable by the minute. “Also, In should probably tell you… the receptionist is a sphinx.”

“The receptionist is a large cat with the body of a woman!?” Strange exclaimed.

Morse smiled. “Not quite.”

The receptionist glanced up when they entered and smiled at them, the strange, all-knowing smile of the sphinxes.

To their credit, Thursday and Strange didn’t even flinch at the sight of a woman with wings.

“Fae Morse” she greeted him; of course she remembered.  

He took a bow. “Sphinx Berenike.”

He doubted anyone would have been able to forget her name.

“These are my colleagues, DI Thursday and DS Strange.”

To his surprise, they imitated his bow and she smiled. “Humans.”

“Yes. I know this may sound preposterous, but we need to speak to a member of the Council, and quickly.-“

“Of course. We cannot afford any delays.”

The way she smiled… once more Morse was convinced that she already knew why they were there.

There was a reason for all the stories about sphinxes, after all.

“Councilman Webbers just got in, I am sure he’ll be ready to speak to you” she said. “I’ll phone up, you go ahead. First floor third door to the right.”

He bowed again, Thursday and Strange following his example, and they left her at her desk.

“Sphinxes are rare, these days” Morse remarked as they walked up to the councilman’s office.

“Otherwise I’d probably have noticed them” Strange muttered to himself.

When Morse knocked, Webbers called out, “Come in, Fae Morse – and your friends.”

The jolly greeting made him half suspect that the councilman was a dwarf, and he was right.

Understandably, many of those who worked for the council had not had much contact with the human world due to them being identified as creatures on sight, and so they had lived in the shadows until now.

He shook hands with all of them. “We were talking about contacting you. A Fae police man, and that in our city!”

“Just doing my job, sir.”

“Oh, you can call me Carrot.”

Strange cleared his throat.

He beamed. “You can laugh, Sergeant. I understand it’s not a normal name in your culture.”

Strange didn’t know where to look.

“DI Thursday, you seem to have recovered well from being shot” he said, his eyes sparkling.

Naturally the council had collected information on his colleagues once they realized he was a police man, Morse thought. That had been inevitable.

The wink Carrot bestowed on him told him quite clearly he at least heavily suspected Morse’s role in Thursday’s recovery, too.

“Yes, thank you, Carrot” DI Thursday answered smoothly, with only a hint of his attitude towards creatures in general; but the way Carrot’s eyes narrowed for a second made it obvious he had heard.

However, almost immediately, he was smiling again.

“Now, then, what can I do for you on this fine day?”

Morse took a deep breath and began to speak.

When he had finished, Carrot sat down on his appropriately measured table, looking troubled. “That’s bad news. And you are sure the murderer was a vampire?”

“Yes. The energy at the crime scene left little doubt.”

“An open vampire attack, so soon after the law was passed… this will be a problem. We’ll have to contact the mayor, and maybe we will have to be the ones to go public with this.”

“That’s been handled. I did an interview with the Oxford Mail.”

Carrot clapped. “Perfect! That’s indeed been handled, then. “Are you on the case?”

“Yes, with DI Thursday.”

“Excellent; we need one of us working on that. No offense, Fred, but Endeavour has more insight than your other men.”

Morse winced slightly, remembering too late that to be on a first name basis with a dwarf meant he only ever used them, then.

At least Thursday didn’t react.

“Alright, you will keep us informed? We will definitely contact the reporter you mentioned. Can you give us her contact information?”

“Of course.”

“Good. Fred, Jim, if you’ll allow, I need to talk to Endeavour alone for a second. Creature to creature, you understand.”

Strange’s nod was more enthusiastic than Thursday’s.

As soon as the door had closed behind them, Carrot asked, “Did he act like that before, or does your DI not like creatures?”

“The later, I am afraid” Morse confessed.

He shook his head. “Humans and their prejudices. Not that we are that much better.”

“Was it that –“

“Oh no, Endeavour, there is something much darker afoot. Much much darker, I think.”

When he didn’t continue, he prompted him with, “Carrot?”

“You said you felt negative energy at the crime scene.”

“Yes, but I can’t be sure –“

“You are.”

Morse shrugged. “I thought I wasn’t supposed to be able to.”

“No need to lie to yourself about what you are” Carrot said firmly. “Remember that.”

He nodded.

“So this energy…”

“It felt… evil” was all he could say.

Carrot sighed. “That’s what I feared. Think about it, Endeavour – a vampire feeds on blood because it is his nature, and –“

“Nature isn’t evil” Morse interrupted him. He knew it. Even now, he could feel the trees outside the building swaying in the wind.

“Exactly. You understand that better than most. But if this vampire is evil –“

“He was corrupted” he finished once more, a shiver running down his spine.

Creatures could be corrupted, their very soul being given to evil, but only by someone who practiced dark magic and tempted them.

Good God.

An evil vampire and a dark magician in Oxford.

It sounded like the beginning of a bad joke. He swallowed. “We have to find them before they tempt others.”

“Always wondered why they never went after humans” Carrot mused, “Maybe they’re too easy and it’s no fun. Well, keep me updated, as I said?”

“Of course, Carrot” Morse replied and was surprised when he touched his forehead, then Morse’s breast in the old dwarf blessing.

“Good luck, Endeavour. May no stones bar your way.”

“And may you find none yourself” he finished; Carrot nodded approvingly before they shook hands and he left the room.

“Well?” Thursday demanded as soon as he’d stepped through the door. “What did he want?”

“Like he said, we were talking from creature to creature” Morse found himself saying. A part of him had had enough. DI Thursday had trusted him, had wanted him as his bagman since they met, and now, only because of something he had no control over, he was degraded to useless paperwork as often as he could, he wouldn’t even let him in his house anymore, and he barely looked at him.

And more than that – the second Thursday heard that the vampire had been corrupted, he would feel himself justified in his belief that monsters were worse than humans. “Nothing you would like to hear.”

And with that, he stormed off to the car.

To his surprise, Strange followed him immediately. “Slow down a little, matey. Otherwise the Old Man will have trouble keeping up.”

“He doesn’t want to be here anyway” Morse hissed.

They had reached the car and he started to pace.

“Hey” Strange put his hand on his shoulder.

Morse looked up.

He could see from Strange’s expression that his eyes were glowing again; this time, he recovered much faster. “It’s not fair. We all know it’s not fair. But hang in there, please. Bright is right – we really need some supernatural expertise on this one.”

“So it’s practical you have the fairy policeman” he said.

“Hey, don’t call yourself that.”

He gave him a weak smile.

“Constable, Sergeant” Thursday had finally caught up with them and got in the car without another word.

* * *

As he watched Morse storm off, Thursday knew he had every right to be angry. But then, he was trying his best, and Morse had only been registered for a few weeks, now.

He walked slowly back to the reception. Berenike was looking down the corridor; it seemed like she was waiting for him, but of course that was absurd.

She didn’t say anything, so he nodded at her and went to open the door.

Only when he’d already pulled it open did she call out, “DI Thursday?”

He turned around.

“You have a good heart. Don’t allow it to be poisoned.”

That was all.

He left.

* * *

Once they were driving back and Morse had calmed down enough to explain what exactly he had felt and what it meant for them, Strange said, “But wouldn’t a corrupted vampire just go through more and more victims? And this far we’ve only got one.”

“Even a vampire can’t feed indefinitely. He probably got enough for a few days.”

“But then we have to expect another victim?” Thursday asked.

Morse nodded.

“Wonderful.”

Silence settled over them again.

* * *

After they had explained the situation at the station, Trewlove raised her hand.

“Yes, WPC?” Birght asked immediately.

“I was wondering, sir… Since we are already going public with the story, and we know vampires prefer victims of the same type…”

And Morse saw the victim in front of him. Blonde, in her thirties. “Shirley..:” he began as calmly as he could.

“We need to draw it out. What if we speak to the mayor about a curfew, so that I am the only one around…”

“WPC Trewlove, that is a great risk” Bright told her.

“But someone has to do it. Plus, Morse can feel when it comes near me, can’t he?”

“I think so” he said carefully. There was a lump in his throat; Trewlove trusted him enough to risk her life in the belief that he could save her.

“See? We need to get this vampire off the street before he hurts anyone else.”

Morse really hoped it wouldn’t come to that.

* * *

A knock on his door that night made Morse even more wary. The day had been long enough.

He was surprised to see Jakes. “Evening. May I come in?”

He stepped back and Jakes brushed past him. “Is it true that you can tell when someone’s lying?”

“No, that’d be Elves, not the Fae, and those who can have become rare.”

“Good. I can say I was just passing by, then.”

“I’m afraid that’s not quite believable, even without Elf powers.”

Jakes snorted. “If you say so.”

Morse looked at him. His shoulders slumped. “Look, I know how this is going to sound. But I wanted to tell you… I’m on your side.” After a pause he added. “Back when… you realized. About my childhood. You could have told everyone. You didn’t.”

“I know what it’s like if you don’t want people to know everything about you.”

“Still.”

They looked at one another. Eventually Jakes cleared his throat. “I should probably –“

“Do you want a drink?” Morse interrupted him.

Another pause. “You know what” Jakes replied finally, “I think I would like that.”

They shared a drink in silence.

But for them, it was quite enough.

* * *

A few nights later, the mayor had called the curfew and they were stalking the streets in search of a vampire. Morse had tried to the last to come up with another plan; but there were so many hiding places for a vampire in town, they simply couldn’t risk it running around any longer.

The best he could do was stay close to Trewlove, who’d made herself up for the evening.

He still didn’t trust himself to feel the vampire when he had to.

Thankfully, it worked.

The same sick, cold feeling he had experienced at the crime scene came rushing back and he became aware that Trewlove, who was walking down a dark street, was moving differently than she had been until now. Almost as if she was… struggling against something…

The snare, Morse realized, and jumped into action.

The vampire, who had been waiting for Trewlove in the shadows, turned to flight when he saw the stake in Morse’s hands, and Morse followed suit.

They soon left the others, who had given chase, behind.

Finally, Morse managed to corner the vampire.

What he saw was nothing like he had imagined, nothing like the reserved, polite creatures he’d seen as a child.

This was a monster, without a single slither of humanity left, snarling and fighting for its life.

It was only through sheer luck that Morse got the upper hand and managed to stake it before it could bite him.

He looked at the dead vampire, even snarling in death, and wondered if that was what Thursday saw when he looked at him.

Something completely and utterly irredeemable.

If that was the case…

Then he’d never be able to let go of his prejudices.

Morse’s shoulders slumped.

Maybe it was time to accept defeat.

“There you are, matey – dear God, what’s that?”

“The vampire” he said tiredly. “Is Shirley alright?”

“Yes, Jakes held her back.”

“Thank God for that”.

Morse turned to Thursday, who was staring at both him and the vampire in turns.

“Sir”.

He was done.

Done with waiting for an approval that would never come.

He left soon afterwards.

* * *

Things changed after that night. No longer did he stare at the house, hoping to be left in like in the old times; instead he sometimes leaned against the car and recited poetry in his head, or he thought of their current case, and willed the time away.

He had by no means forgotten that the magician who had corrupted the vampire must still be out there.

The silences were easier to bear when he no longer expected them to be broken.

* * *

The next few weeks were especially difficult.

Dorothea Frazil was, as always, professional and kind in her own way; and some of the other reporters weren’t so bad.

But now that his face had been plastered across the headlines once more, members of the public tended to recognize him, and he was treated to either somewhat overenthusiastic messages of support or sneers.

A week in, The Council decided they were giving a press conference; and so when councilmen Webbers – Carrot showed up at the station, Morse immediately guessed what was to come.

“We want to have you with us.”

“I don’t want to hog all the attention…” he began carefully, hoping to extradite himself, but Carrot wouldn’t hear of it.

“Oh, hush! You’re the one who slew the evil creature!” he clasped his shoulder, which he was only able to do because Morse was sitting and he got on his toes, “It will be great for our image. Now why don’t you show me around? Oh my, what a bewitching sight! I’m carrot!”

And he kissed WPC Trewlove’s hand. To her credit, she received the greeting very properly, even though Morse could tell she wanted to laugh.

DI Thursday ignored the councilman’s presence, apart from returning his greeting of, “Hello, Fred!”

But then, ever since that night, the DI had ignored many things. Now it seemed like most of the time, he chose to pretend that everything was still normal, that Morse had never registered at all, while ignoring him.

He couldn’t decide if this was better or worse than the open revulsion he had shown before.

* * *

The press coverage, not to mention the press conference he somehow survived by letting Carrot speak, also informed his neighbours that there was a half-Fae living in their area.

Most of them seemed a little wary when they greeted him now, but accepted the situation; others were not so tolerant.

One evening, Morse came home to find the words “Bloody Fairy” painted on his door. He swallowed, but chose to simply enter and leave it be for the night; he wouldn’t gratify whoever had done that by starting to clean it up the second he got home.

He put on his favourite record of Lohengrin and poured himself a glass of whiskey, smiling wryly as he reflected on the fact that DI Thursday wouldn’t be relieved that alcohol didn’t really have an effect on the Fae, despite him being critical of his beer intake when he’d still believed him human.

Eventually he dozed off, only to wake up at eleven pm and turn of his record player to hear strange noises emitting from his front door.

Expecting the perpetrator to have returned to add some extra insults, he wrenched open the door only to have Mrs. Darcy from next door fall into his arms.

“Oh, I’m so sorry –“ he hastened to say, quickly helping her to stand; with her eighty plus years, she really shouldn’t be –

He looked at the sponge in her hands, then at the door. The slur was almost gone.

“Mrs. Darcy” he breathed.

“I just couldn’t let that –  _that_  spoil our neighbourhood any longer, Mr. Morse. It’s a disgrace how people treat others, that’s what it is.”

“Thank you” he said, “Would you like a cup of tea?”

“That’d be wonderful. My old bones don’t like the night air, you know.”

While they had their tea, he learned that Mrs. Darcy had been a nurse in the war, and that one of the doctors she’d worked with had had dragon blood. “He was scared stiff when I figured it out, thought I’d tell everyone. But I knew what was going to happen, and he was such a good doctor – and as I always say, live and let live. You just ignore them, Mr. Morse.”

He smiled. “I’ll do my best.”

“They’ll come around, you’ll see. Men are just a bit stupid.”

He thought that somehow, these were the most encouraging words he’d heard in a while.

* * *

A few days later – the disapproving stares of some of his neighbours had all but vanished since Mrs. Darcy had started to holler “Good morning, Mr. Morse” across the street every single day – a man in his mid to late twenties moved into the street.

Morse met him when he came home from work after another silent ride with Thursday; he was struggling to hold on to a big moving box. Morse quickly reached out to stabilize it.

“Thank you.”

“It’s no problem” he assured him.

“Hey, you’re Constable Morse, aren’t you?”

He flinched.

“No, I didn’t mean it like that!” The man put down the carton. “I’m Jack Mallis.” As they shook hands, he continued under his breath, “My mother was a mavka, but only girls ever become ones, so I’m human. Still, I felt this would be a good street to live in, since you’re Oxford’s most famous creature right now.”

“My mother was a member of the Fae, but I assume you know that” Morse replied.

Jack chuckled. “You can say that. You’ve made quite a name for yourself.”

“It was necessary, I’m afraid.”

“I’m sure it was. God knows it’s difficult to be oneself in this world of ours.” He let go of Morse’s hand and reached down. “But as long as my record player is safe…”

“Record player?” Morse asked.

“Yes. How can I possibly go to sleep without listening to the Magic Flute?”

“It’s Wagner for me” Morse said.

“Ah, a fellow enthusiast. Always welcome. I’m a composer myself – although not nearly as talented. How about I get settled in, and then I play you some of my music?”

He was more than glad to accept the invitation.

* * *

It was raining. Win looked out the window while Fred, as always these days, took his time getting ready.

Morse was leaning against the car; he didn’t have an umbrella, and even from the distance she could tell that he was already drenched.

The Fae, she remembered from the fairy tales she’d read Sam and Joan. Creatures of nature, light, warmth.

Morse must be miserable.

She had put on her coat and grabbed her umbrella before she made the conscious decision to do so. She hurried out the front door. “Good morning, Morse.”

“Good morning, Mrs. Thursday” he said politely, as if she couldn’t see that by now water was running into his collar and down his back.

“I told you, it’s Win.”

He smiled weakly. “I don’t think that would be appropriate, especially now.”

He was right, of course, but she still wished things didn’t have to be this way. She held out her umbrella. “Here.”

“I couldn’t possibly –“

“Please Morse” she interrupted him, all but shoving the umbrella into his hands, “I couldn’t live with you getting all wet while I’m sitting in my warm, dry kitchen.”

His face lit up – quite literally, his eyes were glowing – and she became aware that it was the first time he’d ever openly shown any Fae-like quality around her; to her own surprise, she wasn’t scared in the least. Sure, she’d never really had anything against supernatural creatures, but she would have thought she’d react more strongly when being confronted by one.

But this was still Morse, still her husband’s awkward bagman who couldn’t bring himself to call her by her first name, and she was even gladder that she’d brought him the umbrella as she hurried back into the house.

Fred came downstairs just as she had begun making his sandwich. “Good morning, love” he said, looking chipper, and when she realised he was actually enjoying that Morse was standing outside in the rain, she resented her husband for the first time in their twenty-six years of marriage.

“Good morning.”

Her abrupt tone surprised him. “Win, is everything alright?”

“Of course.”

She spontaneously decided to make another sandwich, or rather, found herself preparing a second one while Fred put on his coat.

He raised an eyebrow when she did the same. “What –“

“I need to get my umbrella back, plus Endeavour could use the sandwich. Look at him, he’s thinner than ever.”

She ignored his incredulous stare.

Morse was still leaning against the car, but she somehow got the impression that he had moved. Why, she couldn’t say.

“Here, Endeavour” she said simply, “I made you a sandwich.”

He stared at her, then blushed as they exchanged the umbrella for the sandwich. “Thank you, Mrs. – Win.”

“Better than Mrs. Thursday” she said mildly.

She could tell that Fred was more than a little baffled, but she didn’t care. That poor boy never could catch a break, and someone had to show him that humans could be acceptant and friendly.

Fred would too, of course. He just had to get over his hang-up, the sooner, the better.

She watched as the car pulled away, then returned to their house.

That afternoon, she learned that Morse had indeed moved while she and Fred had been talking; moreover she found out exactly what he had been doing.

Her petunias, until now looking rather sad and downtrodden, no matter what she tried, where suddenly the most blooming in the whole street.

* * *

DI Thursday was once again silent on the way to the station, but Morse had grown used to that. For the first time in weeks, however, he finally said something when they were almost there. “Trust my Win to take care of every creature under the sun.”

Morse’s grip on the steering wheel tightened as he answered carefully, “Mrs. Thursday has been very kind to me.”

Morse didn’t know that the ensuing silence was not the product of Thursday’s new reluctance to speak to him for too long, but of him dwelling on something quite different.   _Twenty-six years… and today was the first time she didn’t kiss me goodbye.  And I can’t pretend that I don’t know why._

He knew, he’d always known, that Win was fond of the lad, and there had been a time when  he’d been glad for it.

Of course his Win, bless her heart, had nothing against monsters; she’d never seen what they were capable of. And yet she was right – he could hardly assume that Morse, his trustful constable, would ever behave in that way.

It was just so damn difficult.

And yet…

While Morse concentrated on driving, Thursday took a good long look at him. Dear God, it seemed like he had lost weight again –

Small wonder Win had realized that.

Add to that the dark circles under his eyes, and the fact that witnesses and suspects both seemed wary now once they became aware of what Morse was, and it was all too easy to put two and two together.

Naturally, Morse was suffering. He’d never been a people person to begin with, and his registration couldn’t help. Anyone could check and find out about his roots now.

He’d heard on the radio the other day that many supernatural creatures still preferred not to register and instead stayed hidden to avoid the repercussions, and who could blame them?

Morse not telling the truth would have made things easier for all of them, really.

In the next moment, he was taken aback by his own reasoning. Morse himself didn’t have to do a thing with who his parents had turned out to be; so why should he have been condemned to hide his powers his whole life? It made no sense.

He swallowed and eventually said “I hope you like –“

“Luncheon meat” Morse interrupted him. “Tuesday.”

“That’s right” he replied with his first real smile directed towards him in over two months.

Morse didn’t smile back; in fact, he barely acknowledged his answer at all.

With a thinking heart, Fred realized that, even if he should manage to overcome his hang-up, their partnership might already have been injured beyond repair.

* * *

Morse was too resigned to hope now. DI Thursday was nice to him because his wife would have been angry if he wasn’t, and that was all.

He spent the morning silently doing paperwork and was surprised when DI Thursday invited him along with Jakes to lunch at the pub. Assuming there was some new information about the dark magician they were searching for, he grabbed his sandwich and went with them.

To his astonishment, DI Thursday didn’t even once mention the case.

* * *

He knew immediately something was up when Morse returned from the loo. He was shivering slightly, and looked pale.

“Morse? Is everything alright?”

“You used your powers, didn’t you?” Jakes began at the same time and Thursday realized that, while he had been doing his best to simply accept that his bagman had turned out to be a creature, the others had learned what they could about him.

And now Morse sat in front of him, clearly dealing with the outcome of having used his powers, and he had no idea what to do.

“There was a little girl – with her dog. It’s old and it didn’t have much time left, but she loves it so much I… gave it a bit of my life power. It won’t do me any harm in the grand scheme of things, and she won’t lose her companion for a while longer.”

Thursday stared at him, but had no idea what to say.

“I’ll get you some tea with honey, mate. Shouldn’t be too difficult to convince the waitress” Jakes said, standing up.

“Thank you but that’s not –“

“Trewlove would have my hide if I didn’t look after you.”

With that, he stepped away.

Finally, Thursday said, “That was a mighty fine thing you did there. Decent, too.”

Morse shrugged. “I could just tell how much she loved her dog, and I didn’t want her to be sad.”

Such a simple statement. But then, Morse was often kind to those he felt deserved it.

Thursday doubted he’d make that list.

Jakes did indeed come back soon with a cup of tea in his hands. “Here. Should be enough honey in it to make you feel better.”

“Thank you”.

“Bringing your little fairy something to drink?”

Morse flinched but didn’t look up; Jakes looked too disgusted to say something so Thursday cleared his throat and growled, “What?”

“I saw him” the man on the table next to them continued. “I saw him asking the little girl if he could pet her dog, all sweet like, and when she allowed it, his eyes started flowing and he muttered something. I assume that poor dog is dead by now.”

“The Fae are creatures of nature” Jakes pointed out, “it would make no sense for Morse to kill something –“

“Just leave it be” Morse muttered, still not looking up from his tea, “He’ll stop eventually.”

Thursday didn’t like how resigned he sounded. How much of this stuff did he have had to put up with to decide it wasn’t worth even trying to change people’s minds? Wasn’t that the whole point in creating the Bill of Rights?

He stood up, pulling out his ID. “DI Fred Thursday. This – member of the Fae you’re speaking to is a colleague of mine, DC Morse. Is there anything else you wish to say?”

The man eyed his badge, then shook his head.

When Thursday sat down, he saw that both Morse and Jakes were staring at him, utterly surprised.

Their surprise made him feel ashamed.

“It’s our job isn’t it?” he asked. “To protect and to serve?”

Morse nodded, then looked away.

* * *

On the drive home that night, Thursday kept wondering how to bring up the scene at the pub and whether Morse often had problems like that.

But instead, their drive was silent once more.

Then, right before he got out of the car, Morse said, “Thank you for today, sir.”

“You’re welcome” he said, feeling somewhat helpless. “Everyone should –“

He stopped talking when he saw the petunias, then forced himself to calm down. It was magic, but it was Morse’s magic. He didn’t mean anything bad by it. “Are you responsible for that, Constable?”

Morse turned his head and saw that the petunias were blooming as they had never before. He blushed. “I didn’t mean – I didn’t realize they’d grow that much. I know Mrs. Thursday has been trying to get them to bloom for a while” he admitted.

“Might as well step in and see her. She’ll want to thank you.”

“Oh sir, I don’t think –“

“Morse, I’d be glad” he said quietly.

When they reached the house, Thursday reached out and gently touched a petal. “She’ll love that.”

“I hope so, sir.”

* * *

This morning, when she had shown him kindness when his boss had been content to let him freeze in the rain, it had been the best way he’d been able to show his gratitude.

Now, Morse wasn’t so sure it had been a good idea for him to help.

Because deep down, selfishly he wished that DI Thursday would come around and genuinely enjoy having him as his bagman again, instead of doing it as a favour to his wife.

And this was exactly that. He might not think it, but Morse would always know.

Fred opened the door. “Win! I brought Morse with me. I guessed you would –“

She hurried past him. “Oh, Morse! They look so pretty! I’ve been trying to convince them to bloom for ages –“

“I just added a bit of nature’s own magic” he said. “It was nothing.”

“On the contrary, it means a lot to me.” She beamed. “Won’t you stay for dinner?”

And he wanted to. He wanted to pretend that nothing had changed, that Thursday had just magically gotten over his problems with creatures, but that would have been all it was. Playing pretend. “Thank you, but I can’t.”

She accepted his refusal but looked a little disappointed.

“I’ll pick you up tomorrow, sir.”

“I’ll see you in the morning” he confirmed, clasping his shoulder; it was the first time he’d touched him since his registration, but again, Morse could find no comfort in it. Not when he was doing it in front of Mrs. Thursday and it might well have been an act to placate her.

He nodded and left.

* * *

“I was right; that boy has definitely lost weight” Win said, almost to herself, and Thursday winced.

“Small wonder, considering what he has to deal with. Today in the pub – a man started to insult him and he just… sat there.”

“You know how the public feels” Win argued. “Remember the vampire.”

Thursday did.

That hadn’t been a fun few weeks. Immediately after the vampire had been slain by Morse, he’d had to give more interviews, been stalked by reporters who weren’t Dorothea Frazil, and the Council had given a press conference also starring “their Constable” to assure the public they didn’t wish for any more victims.

Of course Morse was withdrawn now. Of course he didn’t think Thursday meant his efforts all of a sudden, when he hadn’t stood by his side then.

What had he done? Or perhaps more importantly, what was he still doing?

* * *

Morse was walking up to his front door when someone called out “Constable Morse!”

He turned to find Jack Mallis waving at him. “Do you have time for a little bit of music, perhaps accompanied by drinks?”

He decided he could really use some company.

“So” Jack asked once they’d settled down, Mozart drifting through the air, “You alright?”

Morse was somewhat surprised at the question. “Yes, thank you.”

Jack shrugged. “Didn’t look like it, the way your shoulders were slumped as you walked down the street.”

“I was lost in thought” Morse answered with more feeling than he should have.

Jack smiled sadly at him. “I know how it can be, living amongst humans as a creature. Even now, I’m too scared to openly admit I’m the son of one even though I was born completely normal. I mean - ”

He quickly moved to correct himself, but Morse simply shook his head. “I know what you mean.”

“Why did you do it, may I ask? Why did you register? You must have been hiding what you are for years before that.”

“You are not the only one who had a mother” Morse said lightly.

Jack winced. “Of course. Sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize. Sometimes, it just feels like I’m fighting a lost battle. My DI…” Morse sighed. “It doesn’t matter. It seems he’ll never – like I said, it doesn’t matter.”

After a pause, Jack answered, “Have you ever wondered… I mean, don’t get me wrong, I myself have been trying to get people to see creatures in a different light… but have you ever wondered if perhaps we were never supposed to fight the battle to begin with? If we were put on this earth to change any minds, surely it should have happened years ago?”

“So what do you suggest? Give up?”

“No. Just stop trying to assimilate. Just quietly do our own thing. “I care for nobody, no not I, if nobody cares for me””.

“The Mille of Dee aside, the Fae have always been close to humans” Morse said simply. “It would be strange of me to suddenly go off live in the woods.” Again, he thought, but didn’t admit it.

“You’r probably right. What do I know? I don’t even have a hollow back, like Mum.”

Morse laughed and toasted him.

* * *

It was a good thing that he had found a friend in Jack, for he still had to fight every day to be recognized.

Di Thursday was treating him kinder, at least; and Morse told himself that it would have to be enough.

Although sometimes, after another quiet ride, he wondered if perhaps Jack was right; they could never really fulfil the expectations of the humans, so why bother?

But then he thought of his mother. He’d promised himself he would go through this for her, and he would keep his promise.

“Interesting case, that one” Max remarked , “her doctor asked me to take a look.”

“Oh?” Morse, who’d only gone down to the morgue to get a report (after calling in to make sure there was only one body currently occupying the tables) asked more out of politeness than interest.

Max threw him a glance. “You have grown quiet lately, haven’t you?”

Morse shrugged. “What about the case?”

“I cannot discern the cause of death.”

“But isn’t she rather…” Morse trailed off, as always feeling queasy as he looked closer. “I mean, she –“

“Yes, she was not exactly young anymore, but still, normally there is something” Max pointedly said. “And I have the feeling that something isn’t right.”

Max’s feeling, as Morse well knew, where to be trusted; and he stepped up to the body, studying it once more with renewed interest. “Do you think it could be something supernatural?”

“Do you feel anything?”

He shook his head. “I would have had to have been at the crime scene for that, I’m afraid.”

“It’s alright. I’ll keep digging. There’s something about this blood work…”

But Morse’s brief flare of interest was already gone again.

He didn’t see the worried glance Max bestowed on him as he retreated.

* * *

“I told you so” the pathologist declared a few days later.

“You told us what?” Strange asked. “Perhaps if you’d be so kind to inform us, since you made your way –“

“There is a poison mixer going around” he answered, “And yes, they might just be supernatural. We never caught the dark magician who seduced the vampire, did we?”

“No” Morse said, suddenly alert; DeBryn saw the relieved glances that Jakes and Strange threw one another and realized he wasn’t the only one who had been worried about Morse. “We never did. And if there is another creature who has gone over to the other side… Is the scene of crime still fresh?”

“The body was found two days ago” Max said.

Morse frowned then decided to try it anyway.

* * *

“Alright matey, so what are you going to do?” Strange, who had insisted on accompanying him, asked.

Secretly, he was relieved to see Morse giving chase to something again. He’d grown rather subdued lately.

“It’s an old ritual” Morse explained, the potted plant Trewlove had given him on the table. “The vampire crime scene was fresh, so I could read it immediately. This one is a few days old; I’ll have to rely on my magic.”

“Alright, but are you sure…”

“Don’t worry; this doesn’t involve anything too powerful.”

He closed his hands around the pot and started chanting.

Strange would later admit that he had seldom seen something stranger than the glow travelling from Morse’s eyes through his whole body until it became too bright and he had to look away.

Only to turn back when it stopped and see Morse slumping down on the ground.

“Morse!”

Remembering that he had gone to talk to DeBryn a few days ago because it seemed like Morse got thinner every time he looked at him and the doctor had told him exactly what to do in a situation such as this, he quickly took a small jar of honey out of his pocket.

Morse woke up while he was feeding him the second spoonful.

“What –“

“Relax, matey. Thought you said this wasn’t dangerous.”

“It wasn’t. This… has quite another reason. Whoever is poisoning people… their powers are very similar to my own. To feel it so corrupted – ”

Strange let the spoon sink. “You mean, another one of the Fae?”

“Almost, but not quite. I think” Morse said firmly, “The murderer is a pixie.”

* * *

“A pixie?” Bright repeated later that day, as they explained their findings to the others at the station.

Morse nodded. “If I had to describe it, I’d say they are distant cousins to the Fae. They have pointed ears, though – they usually hide them with magic when going amongst the humans.”

“I see” Bright answered. “And is there a way to find them?”

“I think so” Morse said carefully. He’d done research after the close call with a vampire, and the Pixie having powers so closely related to those he knew best was an advantage he had to use. “If I have enough plants around me, I could possibly cast a wide enough net that I could find –“

Strange was already on his way to the door. “Fine, matey, but I’m bringing you a whole car full of them. I’m not having you collapse again.”

“You collapsed?” Thursday demanded.

“It was just the shock” Morse said, “I’m fine.”

“If you’re certain…” Thursday answered, but Morse only nodded.

“I’ll have to check some of my books at home for the spell though, if you don’t mind.”

Morse all but skipped out of the room.

“It’s good to see the light back in his eyes” Bright observed calmly. “Now to this Pixie problem…”

“I’ll do some research” DeBryn piped up immediately.

“And I’ll see if Sergeant Strange needs some help with the plants” WPC Trewlove decided, Jakes following her lead quietly.

As for DI Thursday, he was left wondering if the whole world had indeed gone mad or if he was just too slow to catch up with the times.

* * *

Morse was busy going through his books when someone knocked on his door.

It was Mrs. Darcy. “Mr. Morse, please excuse me, but I saw you storming into your flat and I was worried…”

He gave her a kind smile. “Don’t worry; I am just doing some research. Something’s afoot, I fear.”

“Ah well; I’ll put out some mandrake root, then. Thank you for warning me.”

It was only after she’d left that Morse shook his head and felt like he was coming out of – he didn’t know what.

Mandrake root? And her being so knowledgeable about the supernatural, not to mention that she had sought him out – he had never found out who had painted the slur on his door, it might as well have been –

And then there was the antipathy he had slowly developed towards his job, his colleagues and the human world as a whole…

Another knock on his door made him forget his train of thought.

This time, it was Jack. “Hey, Morse. Just wanted to make sure –“

“Everything’s fine. Just some research – we are looking for a pixie.”

Thank God Jack’s mother had been a mavka. At least he could understand.

“A pixie? That can’t be easy for you. Or them.”

Morse frowned. “They killed at least two people.”

Jack raised his hands. “I’m not saying what they doing was right. I’m just – imagine having pointed ears, and never be able to show the world your true self.”

And Morse had to admit that he could indeed relate to that.

* * *

Morse barged into the station with three books under his arms and a manic gleam in his eyes, and Thursday felt worry swell in his chest. There was something… something wasn’t right with the lad.

And this time, he was sure it wasn’t just his resentment against the supernatural that was talking. After all, the others had seemed concerned before as well…

“I can find them” Morse announced with certainty, beaming when he saw all the plants Strange, Jakes and Trewlove had brought (and this time, Thursday registered with relief, it was a real smile).

“Excellent, Constable” Bright announced. “So how does this work?”

It worked by Morse forming a circle out of the plants and chanting in a language that reminded Thursday of Latin.

When he was done, he slowly sank to his knees, his hands stretched before him, and stayed like this for several minutes before he opened his eyes and breathed, “I’ve got them. They are about three miles East.”

“Good. Strange, jakes, you follow us with WPC Trewlove.”

Morse seemed rather confused that Thursday was the one to go with him, but he wouldn’t let him go there alone. God knew what the pixie could do.

In the end, it was all rather anticlimactic – or at least Thursday believe so at the time.

The pixie, a young woman with pointed ears, immediately gave up when they stormed her flat. She let herself be cuffed by Strange without saying a single word.

Thursday should have known something was terribly wrong.

* * *

Later, Morse would blame himself. But once the pixie had given up, he’d somehow been swept away by his growing contempt for it all again, for this useless struggle to be someone in this world of humans, even for the creature who had given up so easily…

Later, the thought would scare him.

And even later, he would be glad for it.

Within an hour of the pixie being led to her cell, she committed suicide and Morse felt… numb. Utterly and completely numb.

Maybe if he hadn’t, if he had forced himself to pay attention to the others, he would have noticed that Strange was slowly growing paler.

But he only realized something was wrong when he slid off his chair.

And even then he needed a few seconds to shake off that bloody lethargy.

Then, however, he realized what was going on and ran to his side. He had to be completely sure, otherwise he’d never have done it; it was too much of an intrusion; but he had no other choice and grasped Strange’s hand, forming a connection between them.

It didn’t take him long to confirm that he had indeed been poisoned.  

* * *

Thursday would never forget what he witnessed that afternoon.

He heard a crash and when he came out of his office to investigate, he found Strange writhing on the floor, Jakes and Trewlove holding him down.

“He needs to lie as still as possible” he instructed them as he hastily drew a circle around the area.

“Morse –“

He looked up, right into Thursday’s eyes; they were clearer than he’d seen them in a while. As he spoke, they began to glow, but for the first time, Thursday wasn’t taken aback. “I haven’t got the time to do this properly, so I don’t know what will happen. But no matter what, you need to look after Strange.”

“What –“

But Morse had already begun to chant, grasping Strange’s biceps. As the glow passed from his fingers into Strange and back again, he stopped trashing.

Suddenly, he turned to his side and vomited black goo.

“The poison –“ Morse muttered. He got up but swayed, and Thursday instinctively took a step towards him. “The price to pay” he slurred before collapsing unconscious into Thursday’s arms, looking decidedly ill.

At that very moment, DI Thursday had several epiphanies.

Firstly, Morse would rather hurt himself than even use the energy of a plant to save a colleague.

Secondly, Strange was already opening his eyes and beginning to ask questions.

Thirdly, Morse was looking ill. Ill. Ill as he had been right after Thursday got better –

And that lead him to his last epiphany of the day.

He’d been a colossal idiot.

* * *

When he came to, he was lying on the couch in Superintendent Bright’s office, a cold cloth on his face.

He could hear DI Thursday muttering to himself. “The bloody  _flue_. A  _bloody_  miracle. I should have known.  _I should have known_.”

He quickly set up, immediately feeling dizzy. “Sir, it’s not –“

“Easy” Thursday said, putting pressure on his shoulder to get him to lie back down. “And even if I hadn’t already known, that reaction would have told me the truth.”

He obliged and sighed. “It wasn’t –“

“So you didn’t heal most of the damage the bullet had done, causing me to cough it up mere days after you came back?”

Morse didn’t look at him.

“You took the brunt yourself, did you? Of course. You couldn’t even harm a tree…”

“They’re all living creatures, even plants, and it was my decision to help you. I wouldn’t allow anyone else to bear the pain.”

Thursday sighed. “Like I said, I should have known from the beginning. When did you do it?”

“Like you said, a few days after I came back” Morse explained. “It wasn’t difficult. My magic works as long as I have a personal item of the person –“

“The pipe I keep in my office. Of course.”

Morse still hadn’t looked at him.

“Hey”. Thursday squeezed his shoulder again. “I’m very grateful, and after everything you just did for Strange… But take it easy, alright? Can’t have my best man laid up because he has to cure the world.”

“Strange wouldn’t have survived” he muttered, starting to feel drowsy.

“I know. Just get some rest.”

It was the last thing Morse heard before falling asleep.

* * *

The door had barely closed behind Thursday before Strange showed up. “How is he, sir?” he asked anxiously.

“He’s fine. Sleeping it off. I assume that won’t be a problem, sir?” Thursday asked when he saw Bright approaching them.

“Of course not. Morse already saved two of my officers; what’s the use of my office for a few hours against that?”

Of course he had figured it out as well. Thursday nodded.

“Wait, two?” Strange asked.

Thursday smiled wryly. “Should have known I didn’t just get better because of my own stubbornness.”

Strange’s eyes widened. “Dear God.”

Thursday nodded.

“Doctor DeBryn said I should tell him immediately if anything happens” Strange continued, “I think he’s currently brewing something up for Morse. I’ll let him know –“

“It’s quite alright, Strange. I’d rather you sit down. I will go. Sir.”

* * *

As Thursday strolled down to the morgue, he kept thinking about what he had just seen. Morse’s determination that, should anything go wrong, he had to look after Strange…

“What a bloody fool you’ve been Thursday” he muttered to himself. “What a bloody blind fool.”

He found DeBryn making tea while carefully measuring honey out of different post. “Doctor?”

“An old recipe for a Fae remedy I found in a book. Give him enough honey and he should be back on track in no time.”

“Good.”

DeBryn looked up. Thursday avoided his judging gaze. “Good? And here I thought if I made the mistake to ask you if you could give it to him, you’d spit ion it first.”

“I deserved that” he conceded.

“A bit more, I’d say. Do you even know how he suffered –“ DeBryn struggled to regain his composure.

Thursday had never seen him so angry before. “Morse is not responsible for his parentage. And even if his mother had been a Fae who harmed human beings, that would be no reason for –“

“I know that, Doctor” Thursday interrupted him. “I know that now. God, he was ready to sacrifice himself for Strange without a second thought. And I would have left him standing in the rain, if not for Win.”

DeBryn’s eyes softened. “Don’t beat yourself up too much, either. Morse wouldn’t like that. You are a good man, Inspector, but even good men make mistakes some time.”

Thursday nodded and took the cup.

“Inspector” Debryn called out when he was all but out the door. “Look after Morse, would you? I’ve been worried about him lately.”

Fred had just the idea how to do that best.

* * *

 “The poor lamb” Win said when Fred told her what had happened. “You have to bring him with you for dinner, Fred. I won’t take no for an answer.”

“I was just about to suggest it” he answered.

“Good. And be careful he doesn’t try to exert himself” she ordered and he smiled.

Then he remembered what he had just figured out and took a deep breath. “Win, there’s something else you should know…”

* * *

Thursday insisted on driving. He didn’t want Morse to over-exert himself, even though he was adamant that because he had done it all in a rush, the symptoms had passed by like that too, which was why he was in “good shape” now, but he’d been known to downplay how bad he felt before, so Fred preferred to keep an eye on him.

If he, or rather Win, had any say in the matter, the lad would stay the night.

Bute before that…

There was something he had to do.

He took a deep breath. “Lad, I’m sorry.”

Morse, who despite his assurances that he didn’t feel any worse or more tired than usual had been close to dozing off, jerked up and looked at him with wide eyes.

Probably because it was the first time he’d called him “lad” out loud since his registration.

“Sir, there’s nothing you have to apologize for –“

“No, I have to say this before I get all self-righteous again and I lose you for good.” DI Thursday took a deep breath. “As you know, many creatures fought on the other side. Of course I know why – dictators have little trouble promising someone more rights and citizenship if this gets them to work for them. But I was in the war too, and I saw what they did. And I find it hard to forget. I can tell myself I have moved, but knowing you’re a – you’re part-Fae, it’s… What I’m trying to say is, I’ll do my best to get rid of those prejudices, and I’m sorry if I ever slip. And when I do, go to Win. She’ll set me right, like she always does.”

They arrived at his house, and Fred parked the car.

“Sir…” Morse began, then stopped.

He probably had no idea what to say, and how could he, after weeks of Thursday basically ignoring him?

Fred reached out and squeezed his shoulder. “Quite alright, lad, quite alright.”

Their eyes met. “I have been quite an insufferable blockhead, haven’t I” Thursday sighed.

Eventually, Morse nodded.

He gave him a half-smile. “Still able to take the piss at me, hm? That’s good.”

They exited the car once more a team.

* * *

The door flew open. “Morse!”

Before either of them could blink, Win had drawn Morse into a tight hug. The lad tensed for a moment before he hugged back.

When she drew back, there were tears in her eyes. “Fred told me you cured him –“

“It really was nothing, and I couldn’t heal him completely –“

“You made yourself sick!” she hushed him. “Now come on in, get a proper meal after saving Strange today.”

Morse smiled somewhat sheepishly. “I didn’t really think about it, I just acted. My mother always said we were wired to do good when we could, because we have such a strong bond with nature, and nature is god itself.”

“That makes sense to me” Win replied. “Now sit down and dig in, young man. You’ve lost weight again.”

Morse threw Fred a somewhat panicked glance, but he only chuckled. Let Win mother him some; he could thoroughly need it.

* * *

During dinner, it became clear that Sam and Joan were bursting with questions.

And he’d have liked to tell them that he’d gladly answer them, only that he really didn’t want to test the DI’s new-found patience.

Until Thursday himself sighed and said, “Go ahead, you two, but be careful you don’t annoy Morse.”

“I’m sure that won’t happen, sir” he said immediately.

“Dad said you were half-Fae” Sam jumped right in. “Which one of your parents was…” he trailed off.

Morse was touched that he was obviously trying not to say the derogatory term so many still used. “My mother was part of the Fae folk.”

Sam nodded. “And what does that mean? Like, what can you do?”

“Sam, he’s not some king of roadside attraction” Joan chastised him. “He’s not going to show you tricks if you keep –“

“It’s quite alright” Morse hastened to interrupt her, blushing. “I might have… used my powers on the petunias in front of the door.”

Now it was Joan who sniggered. “Knew it. No one in this house would be able to make them look so pretty.”

“Now, now, Joan” Win said gently. “That said, thank you again, Morse. I have gotten several compliments already.”

“It was nothing” he replied, blushing in a way that made Thursday think there was more behind it than he wanted to admit. “Making plants grow doesn’t take much power.”

“But other things do?” Sam asked.

Still flushing, Morse nodded; by now, the whole family knew what he had done for DI Thursday.

“I imagine doing magic is rather complicated” Win came to the rescue.

Morse shrugged. “It’s mostly just rituals. It’s not as if I am trying to access the Fae realm…”

“So it’s real?” Joan asked, eyes wide.

“Yes, but probably not as you imagine it” Morse explained slowly. “People think it’s a whole country, but it’s just… another plane of existence, at least that’s what I’d call it. Magic is done easily, people come and go faster than you can blink, and you can use it to go places. My mother took me there as a child a few times, but I’m only half Fae; I doubt I would be able to gain access even if I tried.”

And he probably hadn’t, Thursday realized. Maybe he felt the memory of his mother was too sacred to attempt to do what she had done.

“Do what you need to do, as long as you don’t endanger yourself again” he said firmly.

Morse actually smiled, and for the first time in a while, Thursday felt that things would be alright.  

* * *

It was Win who made Morse stay in the end, as he had suspected she would; or rather, it was Morse’s own inability to say no to her, no matter what she asked of jhim.

“It would just be irresponsible to let you drive home after over-exerting yourself today.”

“But –“

“It’s quite alright, lad” Fred interrupted their discussion. “We’ll just leave a bit earlier than usual, and drive by your place, so you can get changed.”

He acquiesced to that plan.

* * *

Win had not once thought of the consequences of inviting one of the Fae who no longer kept his powers under a tight control into their house. Morse had needed the rest, and when she checked up on him early in the morning, he was still dead to the world.

It was on her accustomed round through the garden that she noticed the difference. The bellflowers, the Chinese rain tree, the freesias – everything looked fresher, healthier, more alive; the plants had an almost unearthly aura to them, fragile and yet strong.

She gently touched a few of them and wondered if Morse had done this intentionally. No, most likely not; but she recalled hearing stories when she had been a little girl, about how nature brought a blessing on those houses who welcomed the Fae. She had scissors ion her hands to get a few flowers for the breakfast table, but they almost seemed too beautiful to cut.

She smiled. It seemed nature agreed with her.

“Mrs. Thursday” Mrs. Bellows from next door greeted her, eying her flowers. “It seems to me you have a fairy problem.”

“I’m sorry?”

“It’s what they like to do, ruin around and play in the gardens of others” she huffed. “I just wanted to tell you, in case –“

“I assure you, you don’t need to be worried about us” she said. “My husband’s bagman happens to be one of the Fae, so –“

“Not that fine young man who usually picks him up in the morning?”

She looked downright shocked and Win was tempted for once to be impolite and roll her eyes.

“Oh yes, that’s Morse” she instead said casually. And to prove to Mrs. Bellows just how little she cared, she finally began to gather a few blooms.

“Are you sure you want to do that, Mrs. Thursday? Fairies have been known to bewitch people –“

“But the  _Fae_  haven’t” she said firmly, giving her a contemptuous look before leaving her standing there. “Good morning, Mrs. Bellows.”

When she returned to the kitchen, she found Morse sheepishly studying the garden through the windows. “I’m so sorry. It happens when I am comfortable and don’t keep that firm a grasp on my powers.”

“Please, this is the best my garden has ever looked. I’m surprised you don’t have one yourself.”

In the next moment, she bit her lip. Of course he couldn’t have done that, before. The flowers would have told everyone what he was.

He gave her a gentle smile. “I might get one now, if I can ever afford it.”

“You’ll eventually be made a Sergeant.”

“I can only hope so, Mrs. Thursday”.

“Win” she corrected him for the millionth time.

When Fred entered the kitchen, he looked somewhat upset. “Morse, didn’t I tell you –“

“I had no control over it, sir.”

“Ah, that’s alright then.”

He immediately relaxed and Win breathed a quiet sigh of relief. It would have broken her heart if their relationship had suffered because of something Morse had no control over.

“Well then, better get a good breakfast into all of you so you can go back to crime fighting, although I would prefer it if no one got poisoned” she said.

“We all would, Win” Morse replied gently and she gave him a brilliant smile.

Later she would think he was rather sneaky.

She had certainly not noticed him touching or even bestowing a glance on the flowers she brought in, but weeks later, they still wouldn’t be wilted.

* * *

DI Thursday insisted on driving again, despite Morse’s protests that he was fine. “Still, doesn’t harm to take it easy, as Win would undoubtedly say.”

Morse supposed not; she had given him another sandwich when they’d said goodbye. “I do hope your garden doesn’t attract unwarranted attention.”

“Win thinks no attention on her garden is unwarranted. Don’t worry about it.”

* * *

As he watched Morse step into his flat to change his clothes, Thursday wondered how isolated the lad was, really. He certainly hadn’t mentioned any mo- any supernatural creatures he was friends with; and Thursday couldn’t imagine that his neighbours liked it much to live next to a Fae, for the simple yet unfair reason that no one really did.

Even Thursday himself had almost pushed him away, after all.

He sighed. Thank God Win had taken action, and thank God Morse had come out of yesterday’s incident alright.

And he was soon to learn that his belief that Morse was lonely had been wrong.

Only minutes after he’d entered his flat, a young man who dropped by. Somehow, he didn’t quite know what to think of him, but he was glad for every friend Morse made.

* * *

Minutes within them arriving on the station, Bright entered Thursday’s office. “The Council has been in touch” he declared, “And it has been decided that the dark magician must be found as soon as possible.”

Thursday agreed. If more creatures were turned evil, the public would have a word to say about that; and innocent people like Morse would be thrown under the bus because of it.

He threw him a look. The lad had been strangely quiet on the way from his flat; Thursday didn’t like it. Not that he didn’t have any right to be wary of him, but this seemed to be something else… a certain disinterest in what Thursday had to say period and he didn’t like it one bit.

Maybe he was tired. He had slept in an unfamiliar bed last night, after all.

* * *

Finally they were going to look for the dark magician, Morse thought, irritated that it had taken them so long to reach this decision.

At least he’d spent last night with the Thursdays. Jack had been delighted to hear that he’d spent the last night at Thursday’s home, although he (unconsciously, Morse was sure) had made him rather suspicious of the timing.

“It’s probably better if you demonstrate unity as the police force at a times like this, with creatures turning evil and all” he’d said, and the thought that for Thursday, trying to appease Bright and the Council might have been a reason for inviting him to dinner even after he’d watched him save Strange was discouraging indeed.

Only time would tell.

* * *

“So they’ve been treating you well?” Jack asked a few weeks later, pouring him a drink. “Glad to hear.”

“They’ve all been very kind to me” Morse said. In the last few days, he’d been rather busy and so had had no chance to visit Jack; instead, he’d hastily swallowed down lunches in the company of Jakes or Strange, and usually had dinner at the Thursdays’, even sleeping there two or three times.

And somehow he’d felt more like himself than he had in…

The thought slipped away as he sipped his drink. He sighed; in-between their normal case load, he was naturally the one responsible for finding the dark influence over Oxford monsters, since he was the only one in the police force who had any experience with magic, and he simply couldn’t find any leads. He briefed Carrot weekly, but there was precious little too tell. “The Council is getting impatient” he admitted, “And I don’t know what to do.”

“I’m sure you will eventually. You did catch the vampire too” Jack said simply, topping his glass.

Morse relaxed.

* * *

Thursday would never forgive himself for not noticing.

Or rather, for finding excuses every time he noticed.

It was Jakes who forced him to confront his suspicions.

Well, Jakes and a… somewhat more unusual visitor.

Jakes was the first to alert him to the problem, however, coming into his office at lunch hour. Thursday had decided to stay and finish the paperwork and had believed he’d gone to the pub with the others.

“Sir, can I speak to you for a moment?”

He looked up and saw he looked worried. “of course.”

He bit his lip. “It’s about Morse.”

“Morse? What happened?”

“I can’t say for sure, but he’s been behaving… oddly.”

“What do you mean?” Maybe it was just normal for a Fae to now and then scare humans, Thursday thought. After all, he –

“Sometimes, I have the feeling he doesn’t really listen to any of us, or that he’s looking right through us even when we’re standing in front of him. And then – “he stopped talking abruptly, then took a deep breath. “I know how this will sound. But I know how someone looks when something evil is happening to them.”

Thursday understood. His heart started beating wildly in his chest. “You don’t mean…”

“Yes” he said firmly, “I think that witch or magician or whatever he’s chasing… I think it’s after Morse.”

“And if they are already influencing him…” Thursday said.

Jakes nodded.

“Well, they can’t have him” he said determinedly. “Not on my watch.”

A piece of paper appeared from nowhere and landed on his desk. Both Jakes and Thursday stared at it.

“It’s not – the witch is it – “ Jakes began.

“I don’t think so” Thursday replied, “This just says  _Please confirm that Constable Morse is not in the building_ , he’s at lunch so –“

The sphinx they had met in the council building appeared in front of them, seemingly out of thin air.

Jakes jumped.

“It’s alright” Thursday said, even though he’d almost jumped out of his chair in his surprise. “It’s the receptionist of the Council.”

Jakes nodded, then tried to apologize, but she waved her hands in the air. “I assure you, it doesn’t matter. Since we’ve been allowed to go out, I have seen far worse reactions. But there is something I have to speak to you about.”

“What is it?” Thursday asked.

“Constable Morse.” A shadow passed across her face. “There is something dark influencing him. I could see it quite clearly when he came yesterday to speak to councilman Webbers.”

Thursday almost asked her if she was certain, but stopped himself. “The same dark influence that turned the vampire and the pixie?”

“I believe so. And in this case, you must act, and you must act quickly. His soul is too bright to be put out like that.” She studied Thursday. “And it seems like you care – once more.”

“Please, tell us what’s going on. We can’t help him if we don’t know.”

“Dark magicians…” She paused. “Dark magicians prey on the vulnerable, the lonely. They take what they want, and they tempt and tempt and tempt until their victims give in. Constable Morse, when I first saw him, was kind. Good. Gentle. They are slowly draining all of that away.”

Thursday swallowed. They preyed on the lonely. If only he’d paid more attention to Morse, instead of pushing him away. “Do you have any idea who this – magician might be?”

“No, otherwise I would have dealt with him myself” she replied simply. “But you know Constable Morse best, and you have to save him. He can do great things; he can bring balance into this world, balance between the humans and the creatures; he must not turn evil. He must not.”

“But if we tell him –“ Jakes tried, and she looked at him with something almost like pity.

“It is not difficult to turn someone evil. In fact, it is far too easy. And if we should tell Constable Morse – “

“He’d be so worried that he was turning bad he would end up doing just that” Thursday finished flatly.

She nodded. “There are many ways for a creature to do the wrong thing. But being influenced by a practitioner of the dark arts… those who walk that path are lost forever.”

“Not Morse” Thursday said automatically, “Not Morse, if I can help it.”

She stared into Thursday’s eyes. “I see your heart is not blackened anymore by your prejudices. That is good.”

She vanished abruptly.

“So it’s official. The witch is after Morse.”

“But who could it be?” Jakes asked. “He spends most of his time at work.”

“He has neighbours he’s at least friendly with” Thursday said, his heart sinking when he realized they’d talked so little in the last few months that he didn’t know anything about what the lad got up to when he wasn’t working, these days. “At least I saw one.”

“I’ll ask Doctor DeBryn about this whole turning someone evil business. He usually knows such things” Jakes said firmly. “At least he could have a hunch.”

Thursday nodded and Jakes left.

He sat down at his desk, feeling worse than ever about the way he had handled his bagman’s registration. If only Morse could have gone to him, talked to him; there was no way he’d have missed all the signs. He could have stopped this at the beginning, but instead he’d allowed him to slip away and into this magician’s hands. What if it was already too late? He’d almost made their last witness cry, and Thursday had been so stupid to think that –

He was startled out of his thoughts by the door being thrown open and Jakes, DeBryn and Trewlove coming in, followed by a rather angry looking Superintendent Bright.

“What is happeneing?” he demanded. “For God’s sake, someone tell me what’s going on in my own –“

“It’s Morse” DeBryn said simply. “He has been targeted by the magician, and he’s already been ensnared so he doesn’t notice.”

“What? Morse is –“

“Doctor” Thursday said, “Can you tell us anything?” He looked at the pathologist. Until now, he had never suspected there might be more to him than the eye could see, but…

“Do you know registration is only possible up until the third generation?” DeBryn asked pleasantly. “If, for example, your great-grandmother was a Sibyl, no one is supposed to know.”

Sibyls. Fortune tellers. Oracles. That much Thursday knew.

DeBryn put a piece of paper in front of him. “All I could make out is this street – Morse’s street. His neighbours. I am guessing one of them is the magician.”

“Doctor…” Thursday hesitated before continuing, “Why didn’t you –“

“That’s just the problem, isn’t it. Sibyl blood – we only know when it’s too late.” He smiled wryly. “For what it’s worth, it really has to be a neighbour of his. I have noticed that he becomes more and more his old self the longer he stays at the station and away from home.”

“I demand –“

Thursday quickly explained the situation to Bright.

“Oh dear. I have been wondering about Morse for some time, but I never imagined it could be this bad.”

“I’m sure we can save him” Trewlove said decidedly. “Morse is still in there. I know it.”

Thursday wished he had her youthful optimism. He looked down at the paper. “So it could be anyone in his street.

DeBryn nodded.

“Volunteers for the observation?”

Even Superintendent Bright voiced his support.

If only they weren’t too late, Thursday thought.

* * *

“No” Win said. “I absolutely refuse to believe that Morse could be turned evil.”

“It’s not – it’s more complicated than that” Thursday tried to explain.

“That’s not the point! I won’t allow anyone to touch this nice boy!”

Even though this was a serious discussion, Thursday had to suppress a smile. Trust his Win to make her mind up and keep Morse good through sheer force of will.

“You have to bring him over for dinner again, as often as you can.”

“Win –“

“Morse was himself on that morning when our garden bloomed like it never had before, I am sure.”

It was true, Thursday reflected; the problem was that none of them knew how far Morse was gone at this point.

Again he was reminded that it could already be too late.

“Fred” Win took his hand. “Things will get better, I know it.”

She had no way of truly knowing, of course.

But it still made him feel better.

* * *

The operation to “save Morse’s soul”, as DeBryn somewhat dramatically called it, had begun.

Because he already kept long hours, it was easy to make him stay at the station even longer while they tried to figure out who had chosen to cast this dark influence over him.

Thursday, as Win had suggested, would often invite Morse into their home after he’d driven him there, and a number of times, Win made him stay. Joan and Sam, who had both immediately agreed to help, were always there to keep the conversation light; and sometimes, Thursday even fancied that Morse and Joan were flirting.

DeBryn made an appearance in the squad room far more often than he used to, always engaging Morse into conversation.

Jakes and Strange barely left his side.

Trewlove had taken it upon herself to scrutinize everyone who even had fleeting contact with Morse, just in case.

And yet, Thursday couldn’t help the feeling that it was all for naught.

Not only did Morse continue to be unresponsive and taciturn, but he developed a new sense of superiority over them all, which would probably have angered him if he hadn’t been so concerned.

Things, he would later decide, had been bound to come to a head.

* * *

“What do you mean, “acting weird”?” Jack inquired, pouring them once more a drink.

Morse shrugged. “I can’t really say. Just… everyone acts differently than they used to. It’s bloody confusing.”

“Maybe it’s not them?”

“I figured it was me, you don’t have to tell me” Morse snapped.

“That’s not what I meant” Jack said simply. “I meant maybe you used to see them differently? Maybe you’re realizing that desperately trying to appease humans is not all it is cracked up to be?”

“That’s not…” Morse trailed off. He felt confused. He had meant that everyone seemed unusually concerned for his well-being, not that…

Or had he?

“I should go” he said firmly, putting down his empty glass. “Thank you for listening to me.”

“If you think so…” Jack said slowly, watching him wander off.

And although no one knew it, on that evening the fate of Endeavour Morse was decided.

* * *

“Basilisk teeth?” Thursday asked, stunned, staring at the item DeBryn was showing him. “Really?”

“Yes. Someone has poisoned Mr. Lace with basilisk teeth. I cannot fathom why they would live them in the wound, however.”

“Maybe they’re too arrogant to care” Morse said simply, kneeling down and studying the body.

He never seemed bothered by the presence of the dead anymore, and while Thursday would probably have welcomed this development if Morse had been himself, he was attributing to his newly found indifference to the world at large, and more than a little concerned.

Jakes seemed to feel the same, since he picked the victim’s family picture up from his desk and walked over. “Here. Like the neighbour said, looks like he was pretty tight with most of his nieces and nephews. Sad, when you think about it.” And he all but shoved the picture under Morse’s nose.

For a second, Thursday feared he would actually shove the picture away, but then he glanced at it, back at the corpse, and paled. “Yes.”

He stood up hastily to take a few steps away from the body. “I don’t think he suffered though” he said softly “Even if it’s probably no consolation.”

Thursday breathed a sigh of relief. They hadn’t lost him yet.

They walked to the desk, where Jakes put the picture back.

Morse was going through his correspondence when he took a sharp breath.

“What is it?”

For a second, Morse’s hands clutched the paper he was holding, then he passed it on.

It was indeed a vile letter someone called “J.” Had written; someone who was obviously another one of the victims’ nephews and nieces, but one he hadn’t been very close to. Rather the opposite.

“We need to find…” Thursday trailed off when he saw Morse’s expression.

There was something vile in it, something nasty, something that wasn’t quite Morse at all; and something else, something that spoke of a struggle, almost as if Morse was fighting with himself. “Morse?”

He shook his head and when he looked at Thursday, his eyes were clearer than they had been in weeks. “That’s Jack’s handwriting.”

“Jack?” Thursday asked. Immediately, the atmosphere in the room changed, even though they all pretended to be wondering the same even though they all know Morse’s neighbours’ names by now.

Jack Mallis. Composer. Had moved in not long ago.

“My neighbour” Morse confirmed, still looking as if he had to force the words out of his mouth. “That’s my neighbour’s handwriting. We’re friends – at least I thought so.”

“Do you want me to pick him up, sir?” Strange asked immediately, looking a bit too eager. Thursday wasn’t sure if their suspect would make it back to the station in one piece if he allowed Strange to arrest him, but then he could relate.

“If he knows about the supernatural enough to have basilisk teeth, we should probably go together, lest he try anything. He can’t hex us all” he decided, glancing at Morse, who looked almost ill, as if he’d used his powers. “Morse?”

He shook himself, then firmly said, “I’m coming with you, if you’ll allow it, sir.”

Thursday nodded. He probably shouldn’t have agreed, but he had the hope that watching him be arrested for murder would finally snap him out of the haze Mallis seemed to have flung over him.

In the end, he, Jakes, Morse and Trewlove went to call on him, Strange keeping a lookout on the street; he meant well, but since DI Thursday himself wasn’t quite sure he wouldn’t punch Mallis the second he set eyes on him, he would at least reduce the risk of assaulting the suspect by leaving Strange behind.

Thursday himself drove, with Morse in the seat beside him staring at the window.

“Are you two… close?” Thursday eventually asked. “I know you said you were friends –“

“I thought so” Morse replied matter-of-factly.

And yet, Thursday thought, he hadn’t tried to tell him that Jack was innocent, that he wouldn’t commit murder.

Perhaps it was instinct? Perhaps something deep inside of Morse was fighting the magician?

God he hoped so.

“And you never suspected –“

“No” Morse burst out, “no.”

Thursday thought it best to keep silent for the rest of the drive.

By the time they reached Morse’s street, there was something like the old spring back in his steps when he exited the car. Maybe the spell was broken.

Or maybe not. He turned to Thursday.

“We will still need to find the magician who turned him evil.”

He forced himself not to say anything. He simply nodded.

Then again, could Morse be right? Could this Mallis just be another victim? No; according to DeBryn, he must be the one who was influencing Morse.

Thursday was still wondering how they could possibly make him admit it without Morse finding out everything, the warning of the sphinx still ringing in his ears when everything was changed.

“He doesn’t lock his door” Morse announced, “Said he doesn’t believe in private property. He’ll be in his study, writing music.”

This was probably how he had drawn Morse in, Thursday thought angrily. His music.

Morse led the way as a means to reassure Mallis, despite Thursday’s misgivings.

Their suspect was indeed sitting at the desk and turned around when he heard the door open. “Is that you, Mor-“

The second he saw them his face transformed into an angry grimace. “You were supposed to come alone!”

“What –“ he asked and Thursday wanted him to grab his arm and drag him away and let the others do the rest, but found himself unable to move.

A magician. Why had he never bothered to try and learn about their tricks?

“What –“ Morse began again but Mallis just shook his head.

“This was supposed to be the moment you have up the oath your swore when you entered the force! When you finally fall – when you give me the letter without having told anyone.”

“But –“

“Did you really think I spent time with you because I liked you? Do you know how much potential you are squandering by being a nice little Fae?”

He strolled towards Morse. “But then – after all, what is a little obstruction? Why not go for murder instead?”

Thursday tried desperately to move, but there was no avail.

He couldn’t even turn his head, and since Morse was standing next to him, he had no idea what Mallis was doing, but he could only listen to his bagman groaning in pain.

Mallis laughed. “Did you really think you could use your little Fae powers against me? I’ll send you and your dear Inspector into the Realm for a bit and see what you decide to do. With so much blood loss, it’s a life for a life with this one. Enjoy yourself.”

* * *

Thursday would never be entirely sure of the sequence of events, but suddenly he and Morse were standing in a… small clearing in a forest?

No, not standing.

For Morse collapsed immediately, his hands pressed against the bleeding wound in his stomach.

“Morse? Morse!”

Thursday kneeled down beside him and reached out a hand but reeled back when he saw the look Morse was giving him.

Like before, only… hungrier. Like a hunter looking at its prey. Nothing of his Constable left.

What had Mallis said? A life for a life.

Morse’s powers. The Realm, making magic more real.

Thursday’s life for Morse’s. That was the murder he had spoken of.

But then, the expression left Morse’s face and even as he writhed in pain, he looked disgusted. “Sir –“ he said “You need to leave – I can’t – I almost –“

“But you won’t” he said firmly.

“Part of me – wants – part – of – me –“ he pressed out through gritted teeth as Thursday kneeled down next to him.

“I don’t care what he’s been doing to part of you, that’s still you in there, not him, and you won’t. I know it.”

Morse didn’t answer. He’d fainted.

Fainted rather than saving his life by sacrificing Thursday’s.

There was nothing he could do; he was trapped in the realm; and for the first time since sitting at Mickey Carter’s bedside, Thursday found himself desperately praying.

And then a noise from a tree nearby.

Thursday had had no idea that animals could enter the realm, but an old squirrel slowly and laboriously made its way down the tree, followed by its family.

Thursday could only watch (and listen to Morse’s anguished breathing) as the squirrels trotted up to them. When they had reached them, they formed a small circle and squeaked at each other.

Then, the old squirrel nuzzled every single member of his family and slowly walked towards Morse.

Thursday tried to shoo it away but it would have none of it; instead, it laid down and robbed until it was lying under Morse’s hand.

“What –“

And then Thursday saw it.

Magic. Real, true, magic, as he slowly began to understand that the squirrel was making the sacrifice Morse hadn’t been prepared to.

And as he watched it, as he watched nature and magic save one of its own, Thursday’s soul let go of the last of his resentment towards supernatural creatures, although he didn’t know it and never would.

Faster than he would have thought possible, Morse opened his eyes. “Sir? What –“

He tried to tell him, but before he could, Morse had already noticed the squirrel and come up to the right conclusion. “I took a life” he said, the colour draining from his face.

“Morse” Thursday said, remembering the words of the sphinx.

It was easy to become evil when one believed oneself to be, or to be destined to.

“I took a life. I did exactly what he wanted me to do –“

“Morse –“

“I am just as bad as he is –“

Thursday, understanding that this was a crisis, reached out and grabbed his shoulders. “Morse, Morse look at me.”

He continued to study the squirrel, becoming even paler as he did so.

“Endeavour”. That made him look up.

He looked so young, and nothing like that grimace he’d shown Thursday only a short time before.

“There is not an evil bone in your body. I know it, because I spent months looking for it when I should have known – when I did know better. Please, Morse – if you don’t believe me, and you have no reason to, God knows, do what you did with Strange – feel it. You have my permission.”

* * *

And then he felt Morse’s conscience gently, carefully invade his own and he did everything to project his confidence into the lad to the forefront of his mind.

Morse took a deep breath, then another. Then the bond broke as he gently picked up the squirrel and laid it under the tree it had come from.

“I thank you” he said, and Thursday understood he was talking to the squirrel’s family. “I don’t have the time now, but I promise I will return and bury him as he deserves.”

He bowed and stepped back. “We need to return to the real world and deal with Mallis.”

“Yes” Thursday said, “But didn’t you say that you couldn’t access the realm on your own?”

Morse gave him a shy smile. “My mother always said it was the confidence that was the trick. Confidence in oneself, one’s powers.”

“And you have that now?”

“No, I have something better than my own” Morse said and held out his hands. “I have yours.”

* * *

Mallis had ignored them since he had sent Morse and Thursday away – what, ten minutes ago? Jakes couldn’t be sure, just like he couldn’t move and couldn’t communicate with Trewlove next to him.

What if Morse really –

No. He wouldn’t. He had to believe that.

Morse suddenly reappeared in his line of vision, and he didn’t like the nasty expression on his face one bit.

“Morse” said, turning to him. “I see you are well.”

“Yes” Morse snarled. “That was a dirty trick of yours.”

“But worth it in the end, wouldn’t you say?”

“I would call it… liberating” Morse said calmly.

Jakes’ blood ran cold.

Mallis smiled, stepping up to him. “So you do feel it? What we could achieve together?”

“Oh yes” Morse assured him. “I definitely feel it. I can do things I never could, before.”

He waved his hand in the air and suddenly Inspector Thursday appeared behind Mallis, grabbing him.

“What the – you were supposed to kill him!” he shrieked “And what have you done to my powers?”

“For now I am making sure you can’t use them and I am going to bind them now. Forever.”

“No! You cannot do that!”

“You take good and you turn it evil” Morse declared, looking furious. “You take life and turn it into death. You have no power over me or over anyone else” Jakes felt himself being released, just as Trewlove, “And you never will have again.”

Mallis shrieked and collapsed even as Jakes and Trewlove ran towards them.

* * *

“And all of that while I was standing guard outside” Strange said, “I should have come in.”

“He would just have frozen you on the spot, like the others” Morse told him.

Bright cleared his throat. “Well, I am glad it has all worked out. And your ability to enter the realm and leave it at the exact spot you desire will undoubtedly come in practical when you’re chasing down yet another murderer.”

Morse couldn’t help the proud smile that tugged at his lips.

“And I will have a word with the Chief Constable. I am certain someone who fought and overcame a dark magician can easily be made a Sergeant. And well deserved, too.”

* * *

“So the magician went insane?” Win asked. She’d insisted on inviting Morse for the weekend, and Fred had had no objections.

“Yes. Without his powers, he just went crazy. I can’t see it’s a great loss.”

“I am just glad Endeavour is alright.”

“Me too.”

Morse had asked them to use his first name because “he’d called me Morse.” It was too natural a wish not to fulfil it.

“It’s a beautiful day” she said, taking a sip of her tea.

They’d decided to have tea in the garden.

“It is” he agreed, watching Morse explaining to Joan how exactly he made the flowers bloom as her eyes sparkled.

And, almost as if he had taken a little bit of magic with him from the Realm, Thursday saw a possibility for the future; a future where little Fae grandchildren ran around, their eyes glowing like those of the Fae he’d seen during the war and yet completely unlike them because they were loved and loved their family in return.

And he didn’t mind one bit.

“And I have the feeling” he said, slipping his hand into Win’s, “that many more will follow.


End file.
